


Make Your Move on Me

by Seek_The_Mist



Series: Rule63!Pynch [1]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Bathroom Sex, Clubbing, Cunnilingus, F/F, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Masturbation, Resolved Sexual Tension, Rule 63
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-10 04:03:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7829752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seek_The_Mist/pseuds/Seek_The_Mist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ada goes clubbing with Gansey where Blue is bartending. She absolutely gets more than she bargained for when she agreed to the whole plan.</p>
<p> "<i>They went on and on, finishing one song and starting another while the mix flew. One of the girl’s hands was on her hip, worrying the thin fabric of light dress, and Ada could feel the sparks all along her body.</i>"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <b>Pynchweek - Day 8 - Free choice: Rule 63!Femslash</b></p>
<p>(A.K.A. we end with a bang or we don't end at all)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make Your Move on Me

**Author's Note:**

> Since I've been an impressively good girl throughout this whole amazing week, this is me counterbalancing my own karma.  
> You saw me getting overboard with The Feels©, suit yourself for what happens when I get overboard with The Smut©.
> 
> High fives to my beta, she rocks.
> 
> The title is from the song Move It Like U Stole It by ZZ Ward, which was evidently written with this type of AU in mind.

  
  


The club was already pulsing with music and shining with ever-changing lights but Ada could immediately tell that they had come a bit too early for the “real action” hour because the dance floor was not a flock of moving bodies just yet.

She was not completely grumpy about it, since it meant not staying in a queue for centuries and not parking the car roughly 30 km away from the entrance but she still felt a bit self-conscious, like a high school freshman who had not yet learned the drill. 

Gansey was holding her wrist, her old money Virginian composure stripped from her expression by the novelty of driving a little over an hour to reach a club in the middle of nowhere. They were free to boost their music up in the sky even at the oddest of hours and be reasonably sure the cops will not bother them.

It would have been reasonable enough, usually. Ada herself only ever ventured to the small Henrietta club with an out-dated sound system and too-familiar faces. The fact that it was coming from Gansey, Mayan-Ruins-European-Fieldtrips-DC-Gala-Events Gansey, is what made it absolutely ridiculous. 

“Yes, he’s there, this is perfect!” Gansey piped up, extremely pleased while eying the bar counter.

Ada rolled her eyes. “Of course he is. He did say he was working”.

Mainly, they were not there for the music, the vibe or the change of scenery. They were there because Gansey was totally smitten with this guy with a tongue constantly spouting sarcastic replies, who worked weekdays at Nino’s as a waiter and apparently weekends at The Tracker as barman in the brutal Friday and Saturday night shifts. 

Ada had taken an instant liking to him as well, being keenly aware of what it meant to work your ass off, and, even while she was left wondering what the hell kind of a name Blue was, she came along – one rare night with no work at the garage and a disastrous breakdown of machinery at the factory. Being sacrificed as third wheel made her feel less guilty about letting Gansey pay for the entrance and for all the drinks that might follow in the effort to woo a specific bartender. Fair was fair.

Blue always had really weird hair, but it was peculiar to see it matched with a work uniform that was more than an apron and did not account for the possibility of any crazily modified pieces of clothing. He was not incredibly impressed by their appearance – Ada would not be either, in his shoes, given the amount of Gansey’s awkwardness he had been subjected to – and they kept it safe and considerate by coming and going for a bit, running up their tab with complicated pricey drinks with not much alcohol in them.

After a while, he was not as suspicious and let them stay fixed at the bar without much glaring and only a limited amount of careful avoidance of eye contact when Gansey somehow managed to praise his skills as a barman – quite over the top to be honest – to just the right person who would surely report the thumbs up to the manager.

The club was getting thoroughly busy, the crowd around the bar more obnoxious and the music louder. Having a proper conversation with Blue while he darted back and forth was quickly becoming a shouting challenge and alcoholic drinks were notoriously unhelpful for a hoarse throat. 

“You know what?” Blue snapped at some point, while shaking a cocktail furiously. “The manager’s shift is over; no one back here gives a damn. Come around and tell me more about that Chinese herb and whatever.” A tilt of his head gestured at the staff area behind the counter.

Gansey, knees deep in a conversation about psychotropic herbs with _a psychic’s son, Ada, come on_ , was ecstatic and all too ready to go along with the invitation.  
Ada just sighed and stopped her best friend for a minute.

“You know what,” she said, dumping her purse in Gansey’s hands and downing the rest of her drink. “You go head back there, I’ll be dancing. I like what the DJ has been doing”.

“Are you sure I’m not going to lose you around?” Gansey eyed the crowd, weighing its thickness.

“It’s okay, I’ll know where to find you, won’t I?” she lifted her eyebrow suggestively, not adding the obvious fact that she could always use the Camaro as the meeting point because there was no way Ada could get home without her.

Gansey eyed Blue, sideways, all too keenly and slowly said, “Okay, then.”

Blue himself saluted her with a, “Go slay!” while he let Gansey in. He was all in for Ada’s display of independence.

Ada skipped off, her arms up to show them a thumbs up, diving into the crowd on the dance floor with a smile.

Gansey was a terrible club dancer anyway.  
  


* * *

  


Ada was quick to find a suitable spot for herself to enjoy the electronic mix the DJ was playing.  
The club was much larger than the one in Henrietta. It had better lighting tricks and a dance floor with equally spaced speakers to avoid the creation of deafening spots on one side while the other side’s sound was severely distorted.

She was more than fine with dancing by herself, the whirl of people around her vaguely indistinct with the scenic flashes. What little alcohol Blue had sneaked into their drinks, impishly, made her just light-headed enough to appreciated the experience fully.  
Moreover, the lack of Gansey’s perfection by her side made her less conscious of her flower-and-vines dress and ballet flats – courtesy of a charity shop, five dollars for both – and of how ruined her wavy hair was even though she kept it short. Unknown faces were all around her; there was no one to recognize her or judge her.

This evening was definite A+ material.

The grade quickly dropped when a pair of broad hands slid onto her hips, uncalled for and vaguely startling. She turned awkwardly around to find a young guy with a half-suggestive smirk. Even though she made a point of squirming away and looking as neutrally withering as humanly possible on a pulsing dance floor, the dude refused to take a hint – because _of course_ he wouldn’t, _for fuck’s sake_.

She had half resigned herself to the necessity of leaving her spot, making her way back to the bar and coming back only later, possibly consoled by a drink and several outraged remarks by Blue, when someone grabbed her arm and smoothly made to drag her away.

“There you are!” a female voice shouted above the music, a universal girl-code signal. “Come over here!”

Ada just went, her ruined safe spot swapped for another. This one was just as good, but apparently came with company, which made the new fort easier to defend.

She took a second to actually look at the girl while she slowly let Ada’s arm go and felt her eyes widen. If anyone needed support to keep her personal space guarded it was _definitely_ not this girl.

She was slender and athletic, the curve of her arms muscular enough to even promise some punches. Her black hair was kept in a buzz cut like a misbehaving little boy’s, but the smooth curve of her breasts proudly underlined her gender. Ada did not want to stare but the tight shorts and the black boots were the only black points between the span of her white legs, the tank top was large and swaying and she was not sure how big the tattoo that picked up from her shoulder actually was, but possibly _very_.

If the concept of _fuck off_ were to be a person, it would _absolutely_ be her.

“I can fuck off somewhere else, if you like” the girl screamed at her, weirdly echoing her thoughts, but in the wrong direction.

Maybe she had stared a bit too much.

She was being regarded by two intense clear eyes, outlined by wings of eyeliner and framed in brutally elegant features, high cheekbones and smooth skin.

Ada was used to Gansey’s aristocratic elegance, but this girl was something else.

_Shit, she was hot._

“No, no, no,” she hurried to say, flashing a smile that she hoped did not look too anxious. “Just creeped out. Still want to dance!”

She swung a bit to recover the rhythm, like to prove a point better than clipped words in the roaring music could.

The other girl smile was a sharp enough to cut glass, and a bit less guarded.

“Good,” came the girl’s reply, her eyes still insistently on Ada. “I like your moves.”

Ada laughed, following the lights with her eyes and the music with her whole body.  
  


* * *

  


They rolled together beat after beat, the bass in the club strong enough to give Ada the faint sensation of her ribcage throbbing.

Dancing with this girl was like being in tune with an electrical storm.

The music matched her perfectly, like it was tailored to her, and the very air around her made her untouchable. Still, she pulled closer to Ada at some point and she felt enraptured by the privilege. The girl’s shadowed eyes regarded Ada with a pointed intensity and for one moment she forgot her fear of looking worn out and let the appreciation make her desirable.

The girl could have assumed the right to touch her and Ada would have not complained. The fact that she did not was even more fundamentally pleasant. Ada’s smile broadened and she rolled her body in a wave, without breaking eye contact, suggestively, close enough to brush against her. One of her hand grabbed her hips and she was not allowed to retreat.

A laugh bubbled in her chest, the grade of this evening _way above expectations_ now. 

She had never danced with someone who could match her so fully, and every beat of the music felt more complete now that she could share it.

They went on and on, finishing one song and starting another while the mix flew. One of the girl’s hands was on her hip, worrying the thin fabric of light dress, and Ada could feel the sparks all along her body.

She inhaled deeply, feeling her chest heaving, and the girl’s expression was brutally pleased in a way that only grew more pronounced when Ada lowered her arm to place it on her strong shoulders. Both girls’ skin felt hot against each other’s and Ada felt a pang of hunger strong enough to make her hand sway.

She disregarded common sense, propriety, and several of her own mental rules and pressed forward even more, to just kiss her.

Her hand twitched on Ada’s hip and she was still for just a moment before pressing against Ada’s lips, impetuously. Even their mouths matched perfectly.

Ada was completely ready to explore how well their tongues could fit into the general picture when an boisterous sound cut through their bubble, forcing her to withdraw.

She could feel her teeth clenching when she spun around to catch the side of an annoying circle of men watching, captivated, and treating the whole business like a _goddamn show_ for their own pleasure.

“Jesus _Christ_ ,” she groaned through her teeth.

She did not manage to bite off several faces in her anger because the girl piped up with a growl.

“Fuck off, you band of creepsters.” She was furious enough and looked fierce in a way that gave them a stunned, motionless moment.

She just grabbed Ada’s arm and dragged her away, a string of insults coming off her, virulent enough to be otherworldly.

“Fuck them and fuck this and fuck this motherfucking shit, we’re going to the bathroom”

The fact that Ada was perfectly able to hear her meant that she was honestly screaming but considering her overall appearance it was difficult to be surprised. She kept up, slithering through the crowd.

“The what? The queue was around the corner _hours_ ago!” she had to point out, always reasonable but less annoyed now. The point where her hand grasped her wrist reminder her insistently that she was totally up to go _somewhere_ , though.

The girl turned around with a wicked grin.

“Not that bathroom,” she countered.

They made their way into more secluded circles of the club, which were way less busy, and sneaked through a small corridor. Away from the centre of the dance floor, the blaring of the music was more contained.

“Staff bathroom. They can lend us a stall.” She winked and then reached towards Ada’s hair. “And I’m borrowing this.”

She took off one of the bobby pins from her hair, freeing some of her curls, and promptly widened it to crouch in front of the door.

Everything felt illicit when she picked the lock in a few dirty seconds and dragged Ada in. She looked incredibly pleased with herself and her skills, absorbing the look of admiration that Ada knew she was sporting, and just locked the door behind her.

There was a moment of silence while they regarded each other, the music far away now, enough to make Ada’s ear ring a bit. The girl took a couple of steps forward.

“I’m Rowan.” Her voice had a low tune and a raspy undertone, smoky and pleasant now that she was not shouting.

“Ada,” she replied, feeling absolutely ridiculous at this late introduction and at her own sudden nervousness.

Rowan stepped in front of her and then made to start to walk again, one hand lightly on her shoulder to chase her slowly, dangerously, towards one of the stalls, true to her words.

She could have stopped at any moment and skipped away without any particular issue, and she knew it.

She did not.

“Come on, then, Ada.”  
  


* * *

  


The thin, cheap wood of the stall creaked softly behind her, where her back was pushed against it. She was trapped under Rowan’s kisses, catching her breath a difficult task. Every time she was able to steal a breath, she dove back into Rowan’s lips, and found herself breathless once again.

Her intuition had been absolutely right – her mouth was _made_ for her tongue to tangle in.

One of Rowan’s hands was running through her short hair and the other still caressed her side. They were almost equal in height, so pressing against each other required almost no effort and did not dislodge the perfect match of their mouths.

It was the most _delicious_ make out session Ada had ever had, and it released something liquid throughout her body.

Rowan’s right knee brushed against her legs and she was quick to open them and let their thighs slot together. Their mouths separated with a wet sound, both of them gasping softly. Ada just nipped Rowan’s lips softly and then pushed her back forward and her modesty away by sliding her tongue along the perfect outline of Rowan’s jaw and then further down, keeping her in the circle of her arms with her hands against the small of her back.

Rowan made a small, indistinct noise and caressed her sides more boldly, making her dress ride up, while something rippled under her skin. Ada tightened her legs instinctively against Rowan’s thigh and it made her pause, almost questioning her gesture, even while Ada kissed her neck.

Ada did not feel like stopping in her tracks to clarify and just arched against her, canting her body against Rowan’s. It was a good type of tension and her silent demand must have been clear enough, because Rowan was stroking her thigh, venturing under the hem of her dress.

Ada’s eyes were half-closed, but with her cheek leaning on Rowan’s shoulder and it was difficult not to have a weird angle of view down her back. With her arms bent as they were, her shoulder blades protruded a bit, leaving an open window between her top and her back. She saw thick, black lines curling and twisting and seeming to go on forever. Ada felt even more amazed.

“Oh God, your tattoo,” she murmured, without being able to stop herself.

“Good?” Rowan’s raspy voice came from beside her face, and Ada felt the press of her cheek on her hair.

“Yes,” Ada confirmed, warmly.

She let her hands venture below the fabric, from the bottom, to stroke the painted skin directly, and was rewarded with a soft palm caressing her all the way up the v of her legs and another sliding down past her collarbones to press against one of her breasts.

“ _Oooh, yes_.” She felt the need to repeat herself.

Rowan snickered, “Is that how it is?” but left her no time to reply before taking the tip of her ear between her teeth, possibly because it was just there within her immediate reach.

Ada had the immediate sensation of having walked straight into something without thinking it through. She could not really bring herself to care, not with one hand moving in circles against her breast and fingertips grazing between the bottom of her belly and the edge of her underwear, making her stomach spasm with sensitivity.

Rowan took back her mostly bare thigh just enough to leave room for her hand to slide between Ada’s legs, on top of the fabric where she already felt overly hot.

She drowned a whine against Rowan’s neck, licking the skin under her open mouth while Rowan tilted her head to the side to live her more room. Her body kept twitching a bit at every slide of the length of Rowan’s finger where she felt increasingly more open and wet. The squirming did not seem to dissuade her from her pursuit, her touch increasingly intense the more Ada’s underwear clung to her skin, damp.

Ada stopped the trail of kisses along her neck and shoulders with a helpless moan, rocking against her fingers for more friction.

It felt almost like surrender and it was probably what Rowan was waiting for, because she pressed more firmly against Ada’s chest and pushed her back against the stall wall. Ada went, pliant in the search for pleasure, and they regarded each other again.

This second was much shorter and Rowan hastily lifted up the bottom of her dress and twisted it to put it out of the way, giving it to Ada to hold. Ada complied and she was more than up for the way her sadly plain underwear was pulled down her legs.

She did not expect Rowan to slide down with them, kneeling in front of her. Her left hand stroked from her ankle to her knee before taking hold of it and pushing it up and backwards a bit, enough to push bodily between her legs.

Ada’s brain short-circuited.

Rowan just lifted her head against her cunt and opened her mouth. One long slide of her tongue passed right between her folds and Ada lost the ability to breathe. The path backwards did not resolve the situation. Between the third and the fourth stroke something in herself collapsed and it felt as if her lungs were exploding.

“ _Ah!_ ”

She could feel Rowan smirking against her and flattening her tongue up more properly, diving into the task.

Ada thumped the back of her head against the stall, one hand squeezed around her own dress and the other helplessly reaching for Rowan. Her hair was so short that it provided no grip whatsoever; she could not even keep mindlessly grinding her hips up once one of Rowan’s hands grasped her hips and the other lifted her leg higher by the knee, looping it between Rowan’s own arm and shoulder.  
She was left with no grip at all on the floor and little more to do than squirm a bit and _just take it_.

Everything was wet and warm and soft and constantly sliding and moving. Rowan’s nails scraping on the back of her leg were _maddening_.

Sometimes she thought she had gotten a grip on the rhythm, but then Rowan abruptly changed it, leaving her to catch up all over again. Or she kept going enough to almost bring her there, her whole body twitching a bit, only to slow down or suck away some of the mess before starting all over again.

Ada could not muster any request, even to beg. It was so much, _so much_ , a pleasure so soft and encompassing; she moaned deep enough around it that she almost felt like crying.

There must have been a method to Rowan’s madness, because she kept playing with Ada long enough that she stopped keeping track, she stopped chasing and pushing, and melted into the back and forth, the pressure in her belly cresting up steadily every time she was provoked and then denied.

She barely realized the moment when the licking became a collection of all Ada’s newly acquired favourites, but it was impossible not to moan her way through it while Rowan’s tongue kept coming faster and stronger and surer.

She found herself once again breathless and in a weird sort of stillness from her twitching, every muscle seized and locked. She came blindingly, harder and fuller than ever, pent up to perfection.

Rowan had brought her up and detonated her and now she kept licking slowly to bring her down, slowing to an end while Ada’s entire body shook.

She withdrew with a broad smirk, her face wet and a bit red, her lips swollen, slowly letting go of Ada’s leg.

“Nice,” she emphasised, absently cleaning the mess from her chin with the back of her hand, while Ada looked at her from above, through her watery eyes.

She ought to be _fucking illegal_.

Ada drew a long breath and then jumped into action, disregarding her own light wheezing. The surprise on Rowan’s expression only a really satisfying flash before she found herself pressed against the opposite wall, face pressed against it.

She had the audacity to laugh, softly. “Oooh, now what?” she inquired.

Ada ungraciously undid her shorts, her chest against her back, “Now this”.

She could not bother with much finesse, sliding her right hand down, directly into Rowan’s underwear.

Rowan moaned in a shaky way, her hands splaying on the wall for support while she bent her head forward to accommodate Ada’s furious kissing of her nape.

She was soaked so wet and it was _marvelous_.

With every nerve still on fire, Ada didn’t worry about drawing it out and slotted two fingers between her folds, finding the point that made Rowan moan the longest, and stuck to it. Everything was slippery and warm Ada couldn’t help but kiss the top of her tattoo. 

It was quick and dirty and Ada luxuriated in the arching of Rowan’s body and in the throaty moans that punctuated her orgasm.

This evening was _so_ A+.  
  


* * *

  


It took several minutes, some fiddling around and a liberal amount of kissing while trying to put the clothes back in order for Ada to figure out that somewhere, somehow, Gansey was still in the club and undoubtedly waiting for her.

Oh, this was going to be _complicated_.

  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> This is it for my Pynchweek16, which has been absolutely _mental_ and probably the best fandom experience I had in years. I'm more grateful than I can convey.
> 
> Further dirty thoughts and kinks to the left, on my [Tumblr](http://seekthemist.tumblr.com). Considerations on how much we're all going to Femslash Hell and it's gonna be awesome to the right, in the comment section!


End file.
